Whom I Love
by Lung Tien Lien
Summary: The last excerpt of the late King Lir's memoirs, which Wizard Schmendrick and Molly Grue would cherish always, and the unicorn would know and remember into the time when men became fairy tales in books written by rabbits. (Written for The Hostile Takeover's 'Theme Writing Challenge').


_**The Last Unicorn**_

 **Whom I Love**

 **(Disclaimer: I own no part of** _ **The Last Unicorn**_ **novel, movie, or comic. All credit goes to Peter S. Beagle.)**

 **0000**

 _ **An Excerpt Taken Posthumously from the Memoirs of King Lír:**_

'… _and to my two friends - my first and dearest of friends - Schmendrick, the greatest and most compassionate wizard I've ever known, and the lady Molly Grue, the former drudge with a knife-edged tongue, the heart of a lioness, and enough purity rivalling that of every nun (and priest) whom I have met throughout any kingdom, I dedicate these next paragraphs. Near the end of our first meeting, you revealed to me that my one true love, the Lady Amalthea, was, in reality, a unicorn – the world's last_ _ **free**_ _unicorn – and I replied thus: "Unicorn, mermaid, lamia, sorceress, Gorgon… No name you would give her would surprise me, or frighten me. I love whom I love." From across my life's passage since, I believe I finally hold enough worldly knowledge to write down some worthwhile thoughts on the subject of my love, addressing three of those aforementioned identities particularly, though I hope these words will not mar the way of my purpose._

 _Of unicorns, I have heard every yarn spun on the subject from the Dark Continent to the Orient, but, considering the circumstances, I doubt any of them would interest either of you. Doubtless, none of them can match the tale of the narwhals who found themselves lost at sea and drifting in and out on the tides around my father's castle. My poor father… Decades passed before I understood wholly how, beneath his demeanor of iron and hoarfrost, Haggard was so consumed by his own sadness, bitterness, and despair. Unicorns, filled with shining and grace, meant for new beginnings – hope renewed – and symbolizing everlasting, unchanging beauty, were certainly the sole beings out of earth, water, or air that could bring him happiness. Naturally, nothing else, not even his own (adopted) son, could ever begin to compare. So, calling Lady Amalthea a unicorn brings about mixed feelings within me; I cannot help but remember growing up surrounded by King Haggard's indifference, and, in addition, the forever untamed, heart-stirring beauty of my lady - further, my lady_ _ **herself -**_ _is not meant for the possession of any man born of this mortal world. And I thank you, Schmendrick, for that bit of wisdom with which you swayed me from Haggard's path; chasing something I cannot seize, let alone rightfully seize, would have been the gravest insult I could ever make toward her. My life, revived by the touch of her horn, truly was spent best in renewing my kingdom, throughout which the passage of all the unicorns in the world has blessed._

 _Calling Lady Amalthea a mermaid would also not stray too far from the truth. Again, I could go on for a full day and night with myths and fishermen's tales – and some of my own, since it seems almost every vocational hero will meet a mermaid or two. Still, surrounded by the twin identities of unicorn and woman, the Lady Amalthea bridged the gap between King Haggard's land and his sea. Of course, the only thing of note I should say of mermaids is this: in most stories, their appearance foretells and, further, can incite disaster(s) - storms, shipwrecks, floods, and drownings in particular. True to the prediction of my father's former court sorcerer, Mabruk, her presence within the castle indeed led Haggard's doom "in through the front door," which brought about the most spectacular flood ever seen – though I, myself, did not bear witness. If only unicorns would rush like a wave over the other lands; certainly, they would topple every accursed castle, restore every barren land, and drive away all those creatures of nightmare akin to the Red Bull._

 _Finally, I don't have much to say about identifying Amalthea as a sorceress. Once I gazed upon her, she bewitched my heart – and hers as well, in time. After all, it takes a certain kind of magic on multiple parts to turn a unicorn into a woman of beauty and grace unparalleled, transform a lazy, no-account prince into a heroic knight filled with desperate, honest love, and then transfigure the woman - almost a full mortal, almost stepping into the full, sometimes spellbinding depths of imperfection - into a unicorn again. It also takes a certain magic to incite said unicorn to overcome the Red Bull's terrifying might, release her people, end the desolate rule of a withered yet fearsome king, and then, out of the love she once knew, liberate the prince from the death he braved while protecting her._

 _I would give up both my kingdom and my life a thousand times over if their losses allowed me the barest glimpse of "Amalthea" - or I would have forsaken them once, perhaps. However, by the power of this "certain kind of magic" - whatever or however any of the three of us figure it - this tired old man believes that a life filled with the sublimely heartrending pain over lost love is far better than living out one's days devoid of love at all, even if I spent my love on something ultimately inhuman and unattainable. Such a life may even hold value equal to the freedom and sanctity of all the unicorns in the world. Would you not agree, Schmendrick, Molly?_

 _In any case, I thank you both for your friendship, and I confess my only regret: that I wish I could have seen my unicorn/mermaid/sorceress one more time before age catches up to me at last. Now, I end this memoir in address to you and "Amalthea" with a couple of phrases I stumbled across once upon a time in order to hopefully counterbalance my verbosity:_

 _This is all I have to tell you._

 _This is all I have got to say._


End file.
